Olicity Hiatus Fics
by Some1FoundMe
Summary: Written for the Olicity Hiatus Fic-A-Thon started by @thebookjumper over on Tumblr.
1. Summer Vacations

**Title:** Prompt #1 – Summer Vacation

 **Written for the Olicity Hiatus Fic-A-Thon started by thebookjumper over on Tumblr.**

 **Summer Vacation**

"This isn't exactly what I had in mind when we were discussing summer vacations."

He smiles down at her as her arms slide around him, her chin coming to rest on his shoulder. Well, as close to his shoulder as she can reach.

They stand together beside their recently erected tent, the one he's assembled completely on his own while she'd been off collecting firewood. The rest of the team – Curtis, Rene, Dinah and Thea – are on the other side of the fire pit arguing over the logistics of who is sleeping where and who – the boys or the girls – gets the bigger tent.

He shrugs and grips her forearm where it's draped across his abdomen.

"I know. But I thought, after everything that happened… I figured we could all use a break."

They've spent the day hiking the trail, with Felicity in charge of the map, searching for this exact spot. Their view of the Feather River is resplendent and the moment that their group had reached the clearing that allowed them this particular sight, everyone had stopped and stared in silent wonder. Even now, in the midst of their arguing, the four other members of their team seem to respect the tranquility around them, keeping their volume to a minimum.

"Hey, we're all alright, Oliver," she assures gently, "Everyone made it out. Except… Except Slade, I mean. But he died saving us. Because he felt like he had to. He felt like he owed it to you. After everything that he'd done… I won't ever forgive him for the hell he put you through, the hell he put us all through, but he saved my life. He gave me another chance with you. I'll always be grateful for that."

He turns and wraps himself around her, bending down to press a kiss to her smiling lips. She returns it with fervor, the distance that had kept them apart for nearly a year now gone, and her nails scratch at the scruff that's grown out along his jaw. He pulls back with his heart racing in his chest and presses his forehead to hers. She's grinning broadly and he can feel her rapid pulse where it beats beneath his hand. Somehow it had ended up on her neck and neither of them seems surprised.

"Okay, love birds, we need a tie breaker here."

She sighs, shaking her head, and breaks away.

"Curtis, Dinah, let's go. Rock, paper, scissors."

Rene snorts, "Seriously, Barbie?"

She shoots a pointed glare at their teammate and he just rolls his eyes, crossing thick arms over his chest and watching on as Curtis and Dinah follow Felicity's instructions. As they focus on resolving their – in Oliver's opinion – childish debate, Thea steps up beside him.

"Things could've ended so differently," she says softly, observing the four people opposite them.

"I know."

"We were all lucky. Every one of us. Even though John… even with his injuries, he'll still recover. He's alive. He got to go home to Lyla and JJ. We were lucky."

All he can do is nod. He doesn't disagree with her. Luck was certainly on their side that day on Lian Yu. If Slade hadn't been there, if he hadn't been familiar with every square foot of the island, Oliver would've lost every one of them. His friends and family. The love of his life. They all could've been taken from him so easily. But he'd been granted a reprieve from the pain and suffering that had filled his life for nearly a decade. All because a man who he had once considered a friend, a brother, had sacrificed himself to save them all.

"William didn't want to come?" Thea asks, bringing him back to the present.

"I think he would've come but after everything, Samantha was a little hesitant to let him out of her sight. And to send him off into the woods again? She just wasn't ready. And I understand. I don't know if I could've handled having him out here with us."

"Paper beats rock and the ladies take it! Sorry guys."

Curtis and Rene groan in stereo, making everyone around them chuckle, and Thea skips over to Dinah, the two of them bumping fists in triumph.

An hour later, with a fire blazing in the pit, Felicity presses herself into his side, sighing softly.

"Hey."

He chuckles, "Hi."

"This is nice."

He hums his agreement and glances down at her.

"But not what you were hoping for?"

Felicity shrugs, "Not exactly. I mean, when I thought about being out here under the stars well… I was remembering that summer before we got to Ivy Town. We spent a lot of nights in places like this. Just the two of us, alone in a tent…"

He chuckles and drapes an arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer and pressing his lips to her ear.

"We'll still be alone in that tent."

She snorts, aiming a playful punch into his thigh.

"Not going to happen, Queen."

"Right. Because we're taking things one step at a time."

Felicity lifts a gentle hand to his cheek, offering him a radiant smile and a small shake of her head.

"No, because we're not alone. Not really. As for taking things one step at a time… I meant what I said on the island. I already have too many regrets where our relationship is concerned, Oliver. I think – I think maybe the time for going slow has passed. I don't want to lose you. Not ever. And I thought that I had. I thought I'd never see you again. Whatever happens next, wherever… wherever life takes us, all I know is that I don't want to let you go."

He takes a breath, deep and even and necessary, before closing his eyes and dropping his forehead onto hers again.

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

Another scoff from Rene draws them both out of the moment and he's not surprised to find their companions staring at them. Thea and Curtis fail to hide their giddiness at the obvious show of affection, even Dinah has a knowing grin on her face, but Rene is faking disgust.

"We should turn in. It's been a long day and we've got a few hours hike ahead of us in the morning."

The other members of their team share incredulous looks, each of them shaking their heads and grumbling under their breath about keeping it down and not embarrassing themselves. All of which, combined with the way everyone scampers off to their respective tents, has Felicity blushing brightly in the firelight.

"Subtle."

He huffs, shoving to his feet and dragging her up with him, leading her toward the tent they'd wordlessly agreed to share. He follows her in, dropping onto his sleeping bag and tugging on her hand until she tumbles down beside him.

She gasps softly.

"Oliver."

"Felicity… I want you to know that I'm not letting you go either. Never again."

She grins and brushes a kiss to his cheek. When she settles against him with her head on his shoulder, their hands intertwined on his chest, he feels the stress and tension of the last few months melt away. A sense of calm unlike anything he's ever felt washes over him in its place, settling into his bones and twisting its way around his heart. It's her. He knows that it is. It's always been her. And even though he'd said the words aloud to her, he makes the same vow silently to himself. He will do everything in his power to keep her, to fight for her, because he won't survive losing her again. Felicity Smoak is his always and she's finally giving him a chance to be hers. He doesn't plan on letting her down.


	2. Eye Contact

**Title:** Prompt #2 - Eye Contact

 **A/N:** I'm a little late on this one. Also, no clue where this came from. Student/Teacher AU.

She hasn't been able to look him in the eye since it happened. Two weeks. Two long weeks had passed since their heated encounter in his office after hours. They'd been alone, the two of them working through a stack of exams for his 100-level Criminology course, when he'd finally given in to his desire for her. Three years she'd been in his life, her bright smile and brilliant mind lending a lightness to the dark he'd been shrouded in for so long. First as his student, a wide-eyed freshman who had taken him by surprise with her genius and tenacity. She'd sailed through every course he offered, acing them all without batting an eye, impressing each and every member of the department. And then at the beginning of the year, three days before classes were set to resume for the fall semester, she'd appeared in his office like a mirage, handing him a sheet of paper that listed her as his TA for the year.

"Professor Queen?"

He turned away from the white board suddenly, his shoulders tense at the sound of her voice. It'd been far too long since she'd spoken to him directly.

When he searched the crowded lecture hall for her face, he wasn't surprised to find her seated near the back, her head raised and angled in his direction. And he wasn't surprised to discover that she was looking anywhere but at him.

He cleared his throat.

"Yes, sorry. Please make sure to take down the notes on the board. As I'm sure most of you have heard, I'm not like most of the other professors on campus. I do not post my lecture notes online. If you expect to pass this class, it'd serve you well to take the time to copy the notes before you go. Also, next week we'll be discussing the chapter on psychological and psychiatric foundations of criminal behavior. It will be in your best interest to have read the chapter by lecture on Wednesday."

He went back to the lectern and began to gather his notes, tucking everything into his briefcase. If he took a few moments longer than necessary, lingering as long as possible, he wasn't likely to admit it. But he hoped that today would be different. That rather than flee the moment class was over, Felicity would linger as well, that she would give him a chance to explain his behavior.

The biggest problem was that he didn't have an explanation. Not really. At least not one that he felt would be acceptable. He was her professor. He was at least a decade older than her. She was a student, here to learn, not to be taken advantage of.

Sliding the last leaf of paper into his case, he slung the strap over his shoulder, and headed toward the exit with the last of his students.

"Professor?"

He froze, just steps from the door, and turned slowly back to the room. The lecture hall was empty apart from the petite blonde near the back. Her soft hair (and he knew now for certain that it was in fact soft) was pulled up in her usual ponytail, her vibrant blue eyes free of her glasses for once. And unlike every other time he had attempted to make eye contact with her in the last fourteen days, she wasn't avoiding his gaze. Rather, she was staring him down with an intensity that sent electricity racing along every nerve in his body. His pulse jumped and his breath stuck in his throat at the sight of her, at the soft, seductive grin that lifted her lips. He reached behind him and shut the door.

"Ms. Smoak."

Felicity stood then and he watched, somewhat mesmerized, as she came down the stairs to meet him. Her eyes remained on him as she moved, her gaze never wavering, and when she stopped just in front of him, his fingers itched to reach for her.

A tense moment passed before she spoke.

"We should probably talk," she said softly, "About… about what happened the other day."

The confidence he'd read in her gaze just moments before seemed to have faded as she'd descended the stairs, replaced with an air of apprehension that he'd never seen from her. She was always so headstrong. Resourceful and cunning and calculating all at the same time. In every class of his that she'd taken, she'd found new ways to challenge him and to prove to him – and anyone else who had eyes – that she was the smartest person in the room.

In that moment, however, she seemed like a completely different woman.

He nodded, "I agree. We should."

Oliver watched as she swallowed hard, her eyes falling to her feet briefly before finding their way back to his face.

"I'm sorry. For how I reacted. For – for running out and not… not giving you a chance to say anything. And for these last few days. I didn't know what to say, I am so –"

He was shaking his head before she could finish, giving in to his need to touch her and wrapping both of his large hands around her small – but solid – biceps. Her eyes widened at his touch, a soft blush staining her cheeks.

"Don't. Please. Felicity, I … I should be the one apologizing. My behavior was completely unacceptable. I kissed you. I initiated it knowing full well that I – that we…"

He shook his head again, unable to put into words exactly what he wanted to say to her. Because he was sorry that he'd upset her, that he'd caught her off guard, but he was in no way sorry for kissing her. Because even though he knew that he shouldn't want her, he did. More than he'd wanted anyone for a long, long time.

"I kissed you back, though. I wanted to. I _want to_ , Oliver."

"Felicity."

Her name fell softly from his lips, barely a breath leaving his body, and he found himself leaning toward her. He allowed his eyes to stray briefly to her mouth, to the lips he knew to be soft and sweet and insistent, and his need for her swelled in his chest. He wasn't sure he was capable of taking another breath with the way his desire choked him.

"Please," she gasped, her own voice strangled as it left her, "Oliver, please, kiss me."

There was no way he could resist her plea. Not when she was pressed against him, the slight weight of her body falling easily into his arms. Not when she was right there, the subtle scent of her shampoo – something fruity with a hint of coconut – swirling around him and drawing him in. He couldn't possibly say no to a request from her. He didn't want to.

He let his forehead rest against hers as he released her arms to cup her face, thumbs trailing along the apples of her cheeks.

"We'll have to be careful," he breathed, "So very careful."

She nodded, "I know."

"We can't tell anyone, Felicity."

"I don't care. Oliver, I want this. I want you. Kiss me."

He drew back, finding her eyes – her gorgeous blue eyes – and seeing nothing but truth and determination reflecting back at him. He felt that lightening again, felt it slither along his spine before exploding out along his nerves, and he knew that this was only the beginning. Whatever it was that existed between them would be intense and passionate and so very real. He couldn't wait another moment to get started.

Oliver drew her close and kissed her hard.

End.


	3. Taste

**Title:** Prompt #3 - Taste

She misses the taste of him the moment the door closes behind him.

Dinner had gone well, better than well really, and by the time they'd returned to the loft, she had convinced herself that it wouldn't hurt anything if she invited him to stay over. They'd agreed to go slow, to start over and take things one step at a time. She'd made the first move with a desperate kiss on Lian Yu before following it up by asking him to dinner on their flight home. It was a date, a real one, at a nice little Italian bistro – much like where they'd had their first disastrous date – and it couldn't have gone better. They'd both been so at ease, so relaxed, to finally be back where they both belonged. Together. But when Oliver had walked her to the front door of the loft and she had invited him in for coffee, the air between them had thickened, crackling with tension. He'd had her backed against a pillar before she could get a word out, his mouth fused with hers, his tongue begging for entry. They'd ended up stretched out on the sofa where they'd made out like unruly teenagers for close to an hour. When Oliver had finally pulled himself away and stared down at her with flushed cheeks and mussed hair, the invitation to spend the night had been on the tip of her tongue. But she hadn't gotten the chance to verbalize it. He'd sat up, taking her with him, and gave her one last kiss before backing his way to the door.

Now, as she sits curled into the corner of her sofa in front of a dwindling fire, she can still taste him on her lips. He'd tasted of bourbon and Bolognese and that distinct taste that belonged solely to him. The one she had spent more than a year craving. She'd tried to move on after the mistake they'd made in the bunker, after she'd let herself go one single time, but there was no replacing Oliver in her life. She'd come to that conclusion rather quickly.

She sighs, her head falling to the back of the couch, and closes her eyes.

She had been the one to suggest taking things slow. To easing back into their relationship one step at a time. And she knows that it's the right thing to do, that they need more time to figure out who they are separately and who they can be together. But she's not sure that she can handle slow, that she can take this snail's pace that she inadvertently subjected herself to.

Felicity snorts to herself, her head rolling along the couch.

"We just made it past first base and were well on the way to second," she says to the empty room, "I guess we're not going that slow."

But even as the words leave her lips, she finds herself longing for more. She imagines what would have happened if he'd stayed, if Oliver hadn't adhered to her request and put on the brakes. She imagines they would've ended up upstairs, in the room they used to share, a trail of clothes left in their wake. And she would've gotten more than just a taste of his lips. Because her mouth would've found his ear and slid down the column of his throat. She would've sucked a mark into his collarbone while he fisted his hands in her loose hair, drawing her closer, holding her there. She would've tasted the salt on his skin and the faint trace of his soap.

She shudders and groans and clenches her thighs as a heavy ache settles low in her belly. It's been too damn long and she knows what she needs, what she wants. She wants Oliver. She wants him in her life, in her home and in her bed, and she doesn't care about taking it slow. Not really. She'd thought, when the bombs had begun detonating on that island, that she would never see him again. That she'd never have the chance to remind him that she loved him. And she had – has – so many regrets. The most prominent being that she hadn't had the chance to marry him, to marry the love of her life. She doesn't want to live with that regret anymore.

Reaching for her phone where it lies on the coffee table, she pauses only when it's securely in her hand. Her finger hovers over the screen.

It takes all of her self-restraint not to call him and ask him to come back. She misses him, she does, but she's sure he's already home, possibly already in bed. And while she knows without a doubt that, if she did call, he'd come back to her without question, she makes the decision that what she wants to say to him can wait. She'll give herself time to cool off, to let her hormones settle to a more respectable level, before she tells Oliver what it is that she really wants. She doesn't want to go slow. She doesn't want to take things one step at a time. No, the one thing that Felicity wants more than anything, is Oliver Queen by her side. As her friend, her partner, and – hopefully soon – her husband.


	4. At Odds

**A/N:** I'm back! I have been in a horrible funk lately when it comes to my writing. I haven't written a thing in weeks. Possibly months. Honestly, I can't remember the last time I wrote anything significant. So I decided to jump back into the fic a thon to get the creative juices flowing. I'm going to try very hard to post at least one of these a day until I'm all caught up... No promises but I'll give it my all!

 **At Odds**

"They do know that this is _our_ wedding right? You and me? Yours and mine?" she grumbles, leaning heavily into him where he sits beside her.

Across the table, her soon to be sister-in-law and her mother continue their heated argument. Neither of them acknowledge her.

Oliver's arm around her pulls her tighter to his side.

"We could always elope."

She snorts loudly, the sound finally drawing the attention of the two women opposite them. Thea frowns at her.

"What?"

Felicity fiddles with the stem of her wine glass and sighs.

"Don't you think that you're taking this a little too far?" she questions, steeling herself for the battle she knows she's walking into, "Oliver and I just want something small. Family and friends, that's it. Nothing extravagant. This is getting out of hand. You're talking about doves and desert tables. Photo booths and a live band and … and it's just too much. We don't need any of that."

They've been at odds with Thea and her mother since the moment they'd announced their (second) engagement. The two most important women in their lives had taken it upon themselves to plan a lavish wedding. A large, opulent, over-the-top celebration that neither of them are interested in. And while Felicity had expected her mother to push for an extravagant party to celebrate their marriage, she'd been surprised that Thea had jumped on that particular train with her. She had been sure that Oliver's sister would be on her side, that she'd recognize Felicity's desire for something much more intimate, more romantic.

"Felicity, Oliver is the mayor of Star City. People are going to expect something grand. The constituency has been following your relationship since the first engagement. They're going to want to feel like they're involved."

"And that means inviting every single person who's shaken hands with the mayor? This is our _wedding_ , Thea, not some charity gala. This is personal. I'm telling you right now, the guest list that Oliver and I gave you is the list you'd better stick to if you expect there to be a wedding."

Oliver's fingers dig carefully into her hip and she takes a slow breath, forcing herself to keep her voice down. There have been more than one pair of wandering eyes on them since they'd been led to their booth at the back of the restaurant.

"Felicity, hon, Thea and I –"

She shakes her head, cutting off whatever it is her mother was going to say.

"No, mom. I'm serious. I know that we've given the two of you a lot of slack when it comes to planning the wedding. And I'm very grateful for your help. I am. I've been so busy working on the start-up with Curtis and Oliver's been crazy busy, you know, being the mayor. But this is where I put my foot down. Neither of us want two hundred people showing up at our wedding. Only our closest friends and family are invited. Thirty people. That's it. That's our cap. All of our friends, the two of you, and a couple of plus ones. John is the best man, William is a groomsmen, Thea is my maid of honor and Lyla will be a bridesmaid. The end."

"But –"

"No, no buts," Oliver says sternly, casting a heavy glare in his sister's direction, "This is what we want, Speedy. Felicity's right. This is our wedding, not a circus. And while we really appreciate everything that you're doing for us, please don't think for a second that we won't jet off to Bali and get married on the beach if we feel like what you're planning is too much. I've been trying to convince her to elope since the moment she said yes. The second time. We're ready to be married. We've been ready. The only reason we're even planning a wedding is because of all of you. Because we want you to be there with us. But we'd like you to respect our wishes and keep it small. Please."

Silence falls over their table. Donna and Thea exchange a look before they both deflate. Thea reaches for her wine, taking a long sip.

"You'd really elope?" she asks.

Oliver nods, "If we were doing this my way, Felicity and I would've been married the day after we got engaged. I let her convince me that having all of your with us was too important. That the two of you, specifically, wouldn't forgive us if we got married without you."

Another look is exchanged before both woman smile, Donna reaching a hand across the table to grasp Felicity's.

"I'm sorry, baby, you're right. It's your wedding. So if you want something small and beautiful and intimate, that's what you'll have. Okay?"

"Thank you, Mom."

When they marry two months later in the city's lush botanical gardens, it is with an audience of only their closest friends and family. The private, secluded setting makes it all the more special when they announce over dinner that - in just six short months - William will be a big brother.


End file.
